Chapter 26

Chapter Twenty-Six

" A nother letter from Lady Strathmore, Your Grace," Thornley announced, his tone carefully neutral as he placed the envelope on Edmund's desk.

Edmund's jaw clenched as he eyed the elegant script. "Thank you, Thornley. That will be all."

As soon as the butler had left, Edmund snatched up the letter, his fingers itching to tear it to shreds. Instead, he yanked open the bottom drawer of his desk and tossed it in with the others, a growing collection of unwanted correspondence.

"Won't give up, will she?" Daniel's voice pulled him from his thoughts.

Edmund looked up to see his friend lounging in the doorway, an eyebrow raised in question. "Daniel. I didn't hear you come in."

"Clearly," Daniel replied, pushing off the doorframe and sauntering into the study. His eyes fell on the drawer Edmund had just closed. "I take it that's not the first letter from our dear Lady Strathmore?"

Edmund's expression darkened. "No. She's been… insistent in her attempts to communicate."

"And you've been reading them?" Daniel's tone was light, but Edmund could hear the undercurrent of concern.

"Of course not," he snapped, more harshly than he'd intended. Softening his voice, he added, "I haven't opened a single one of them."

Daniel nodded, relief evident on his face. "Good. That's… good."

A tense silence fell between them. Edmund could feel Daniel's eyes on him, searching for something. Finally, unable to bear the scrutiny any longer, he broke the silence.

"Out with it, Ravenshaw. What's on your mind?"

Daniel sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It's just… are you sure you're handling this the right way, old chap? Ignoring her completely?"

Edmund's brow furrowed. "What would you have me do? Engage with her? You know as well as I do that nothing good can come of that."

"I'm not saying you should respond," Daniel clarified quickly. "But perhaps… I don't know. Perhaps you could tell Adeline about the letters?"

At the mention of his wife's name, Edmund felt a pang of guilt. "Adeline doesn't need to be burdened with this. It's in the past."

Daniel's eyes narrowed. "Is it? Because from where I'm standing, it looks very much like the past is trying to claw its way into your present."

"It's nothing I can't handle," Edmund insisted, his tone growing defensive.

"Like you handled it last time?" The words were out before Daniel could stop them, and he immediately looked contrite. "I'm sorry, that was unfair."

Edmund waved off the apology, though the barb still stung. "You're not entirely wrong," he admitted. "But things are different now. I'm different."

"Are you?" Daniel challenged. "Because from where I'm sitting, it looks like you're falling into the same old patterns. Shutting people out, trying to handle everything on your own."

Edmund bristled. "That's not?—"

"It is," Daniel cut him off. "You have a wife now, Edmund. A good woman who clearly cares for you. And instead of letting her in, you're keeping secrets and bottling everything up."

"I'm protecting her," Edmund argued. But even to his own ears, the words sounded weak.

Daniel shook his head, his expression softening. "You're not protecting her, my friend. You're pushing her away. And in doing so, you're letting Joanna achieve exactly what she wants—driving a wedge between you and Adeline."

Edmund fell silent, Daniel's words hitting uncomfortably close to home. He thought of Adeline, of the hurt in her eyes when he'd withdrawn during their conversation about his father. Of the tentative hope he'd seen there in the days since—hope he'd been too afraid to nurture.

"What would you have me do?" he asked finally, his voice low.

"Talk to her," Daniel said simply. "Be honest with her about Joanna, about the letters. Let her in, Edmund. Before it's too late."

Edmund nodded slowly, the weight of his friend's advice settling on his shoulders. "And if… if she reacts badly? If it changes how she sees me?"

Daniel's expression softened further. "Then at least you'll know you gave her the chance to understand. And who knows? You might be surprised by her reaction. From what I've seen, your duchess is made of stronger stuff than you give her credit for."

A small smile tugged at Edmund's lips despite himself. "She is."

"Well then," Daniel said, clapping his hands together. "Now that we sorted that out, how about a drink? I'd say we've both earned one after this heart-to-heart."

Edmund chuckled, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. "I suppose we have. Brandy?"

As he poured their drinks, his mind whirled with the implications of Daniel's advice.

The thought of opening up to Adeline, of sharing the full extent of his past with Joanna, terrified him. But the alternative—continuing to push her away, potentially losing the fragile connection they'd begun to forge—was even more frightening.

"Adeline, my dear! Don't tell me you've taken to hiding in the library like that curmudgeon of a husband of yours!"

Adeline looked up from her book, startled by the familiar voice echoing through the library. A smile spread across her face as she spotted her grandmother, Lady Gillingham, arm-in-arm with Lady Alderton. Both women beamed at her from the doorway.

"Grandmama, Lady Alderton! What a wonderful surprise," Adeline exclaimed, setting aside her book and rising to greet them.

Lady Alderton tutted, wagging a finger at her. "Now, now, my dear. I thought we'd dispensed with such formalities. It's Rachel, remember?"

"Of course, Rachel," Adeline replied, suppressing a giggle at the older woman's mock stern expression. "To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit?"

"Can't two old biddies simply want to check on their favorite grandchildren?" Lady Gillingham asked innocently.

Lady Alderton snorted most inelegantly. "Speak for yourself, Miriam. I'm no biddy. I prefer to think of myself as a well-seasoned connoisseur of life's finer pleasures."

"Is that what we're calling it now?" Lady Gillingham retorted, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "And here I thought it was just an excuse to meddle in our grandchildren's affairs."

Adeline couldn't help but laugh at their banter. "Well, whatever your reasons, I'm delighted to see you both. Shall we retire to the drawing room? I'll have Thornley bring us some tea."

As they settled into the drawing room, Edmund appeared in the doorway, his eyebrows rising at the sight of their unexpected guests.

"Grandmother," he said, nodding to Lady Alderton. "Lady Gillingham. I wasn't aware we were expecting visitors."

"That's because we didn't tell you, darling," Lady Alderton replied breezily. "We thought we'd surprise you. You know how I love to keep you on your toes."

Edmund's lips twitched, fighting a smile. "Indeed. How… thoughtful of you."

"Oh, don't be such a grump, Edmund," Lady Alderton chided, patting the seat next to her. "Come sit by your dear old grandmother and tell me all about how married life is treating you."

As Edmund reluctantly took his seat, looking for all the world like a schoolboy called to the headmaster's office, Adeline had to bite her lip to keep from laughing.

"Now then," Lady Gillingham began, leaning forward conspiratorially. "We hear there's to be a grand ball at Lord Weatherby's estate next week. Surely you two lovebirds are planning to attend?"

Adeline felt her cheeks flush at the word ‘lovebirds'. She glanced at Edmund, who looked equally uncomfortable.

"We hadn't really discussed it," she began, but Lady Alderton cut her off with a wave of her hand.

"Nonsense! Of course, you'll attend. It's the social event of the Season, and you, my dear," she said, fixing Edmund with a stern gaze, "need to show your face in Society more often. A duke can't live like a hermit, you know."

Edmund opened his mouth to protest, but at that moment, Thornley entered with a letter on a silver tray.

"Begging your pardon, Your Grace, but an invitation has just arrived for you and Her Grace. From Lord Weatherby."

Lady Alderton's triumphant "Ha!" was so loud that it made Thornley jump, nearly upending the tray.

"What did I tell you?" she crowed, looking positively gleeful. "Well, go on then, Edmund. Open it!"

With a resigned sigh, Edmund took the invitation and broke the seal. His eyes scanned the contents, his brow furrowing slightly.

"Well?" Lady Gillingham prompted, practically bouncing in her seat with anticipation.

"It appears," Edmund said slowly, "that Lord Weatherby is indeed hosting a ball next Friday evening. And we are cordially invited to attend."

The two dowagers exchanged a look of such smug satisfaction that Adeline had to stifle a giggle.

"Splendid!" Lady Alderton exclaimed. "Now, Adeline, dear, we simply must discuss your gown. I was thinking something in emerald green, to bring out those lovely green eyes of yours. Don't you agree, Miriam?"

As the two older women launched into an enthusiastic discussion of fashion, Adeline caught Edmund's eye. He looked so comically dismayed that she couldn't help but smile at him sympathetically.

"Come now, Edmund," she said softly, reaching out to pat his hand. "Surely it won't be so terrible?"

Edmund's expression softened as he met her gaze. "I suppose not," he conceded. "Especially if you'll be there to keep me from throttling Lord Rutherford when he inevitably corners me to discuss his prize pigs."

Adeline laughed, a warm feeling spreading through her chest at his words. "I solemnly swear to run interference with any and all pig-related conversations," she promised, her eyes twinkling.

"Oho!" Lady Alderton's triumphant exclamation made them both jump in their seats. "Look at you two, thick as thieves already. Didn't I tell you, Miriam? I knew they'd be perfect for each other."

"Yes, yes, you're very clever," Lady Gillingham said indulgently. "Now, about this ball. Adeline, my dear, please tell me you've been practicing your dancing. We can't have the Duchess of Holbrook tripping over her own feet, can we?"

Adeline felt her face flame. "I… well, that is to say…"

"Not to worry," Edmund interjected smoothly. "I've been giving Adeline lessons myself. She's quite the natural."

Adeline's head whipped around to stare at him in surprise. They'd done no such thing, of course, but the easy lie and the warm smile he gave her made her heart flutter.

"Oh, how romantic!" Lady Alderton gushed, clasping her hands to her chest. "You see, Miriam? I told you my grandson had it in him to be a proper husband."

"Yes, well…" Edmund coughed, looking slightly embarrassed. "It's only proper, after all."

As the conversation flowed around her, Adeline found herself sneaking glances at Edmund. The way he effortlessly fielded his grandmother's teasing, the gentle humor in his eyes when he looked at her—it all spoke of a man far different from the cold, distant person she'd first married.

Stop it . Don't read too much into it. It's just for show, to appease our grandmothers.